Feather
by Schuyler Lola
Summary: He remembers the way she thanks him, sincere words and shy eyes. It was so unlike her. JJ, onsehot.


Disclaimer: There is one.

This little ficlet is in honour of my lovely friend, Jessica, on the occasion of her birthday. (She's really old now, guys.) You may know her as DiehardJavaJunkie14. She's got a lot of names. Anyway, happy birthday, babe!

There may be some uncaught AU elements in this story. You have been warned. Enjoy some JJ love!

Feather

The first time he was at Lorelai's house was a Thursday. He remembers it perfectly, how it looked, what she wore – even what Rory was reading. _The Brother Karamazov,_ in case he is asked. It was a Thursday and she had mentioned something about her washing machine not working and unthinkingly, he offered to fix it for her. She looked at him, completely shocked. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He remembers the widening of her eyes and the note of incredulity in her voice. He remembers the way she leaned forward and the way she hesitantly agrees to his proposal.

He went over to her house around 6. She answered the door wearing jeans and a tank top, glasses on, bare feet. She looked frazzled. There were boxes everywhere. She apologizes for the mess. He waves to Rory.

He remembers the way she thanks him, sincere words and shy eyes. It was so unlike her, the whilr of dark hair and caffeine that he saw every day that he stared at her blankly for a solid two minutes before clearly his throat and saying good-bye.

He remembers going home, looking at the empty spot where Rachel was supposed to be and being only able to focus on the smile of a different girl.

* * *

><p>The first time he gives her five hours of free labour for her birthday, she frowned and tried to refuse it. He had noticed that she hadn't been talking as freely with him as she often did – there are no worries, no complaints. "Luke," she said, "I don't want to take advantage of you."<p>

"Well, I can't let you live in a death trap." And it was settled.

She gave him a very short list that first year.

He never told her that he fixed a few things that were about to break, things she never would have noticed. Just to stay a little longer.

He never told her that he fixed the legs of her brand new couch, the one she was so proud of – he never wanted her to know how faulty and defective it was.

* * *

><p>The night after he gave her the chuppah, that was really when it sunk in that she was going to get married. To Max. He only vaguely remembers this night. He remembers the empties he found scattered all over the apartment the next morning, he remembers going to her house, never letting her know that he was there, just looking at the chuppah. Looking at her window. Freshly painted trim.<p>

Because of him.

He does remember puking for two and a half hours when he got home. He remembers how low he felt.

He remembers his unholy joy in hearing that she called it off.

* * *

><p>Nicole was nice, in the beginning, at least. She was nice and smart and funny and she was even interesting to him, despite being a lawyer. She was beautiful. So he gave it a shot. And he fucked it up. Or maybe she fucked it up. Who knows?<p>

He still feels bitterness when he thinks about that mistake. But not because it ended so badly, not because he pushed her away, but because it wasn't right. He wasn't right.

He never should have tried that.

* * *

><p>He had long known that he had a soft spot in his heart for Lorelai. In fact, that he was attracted to her to in a pretty strong, uncontrollable way. He has long dismissed the idea of dating her – he wanted to, God, he wanted to – but he had never been able to come up with a scenario in which it would have been feasible.<p>

But that night, after Liz's wedding, he walked her home. He looked at her, and he suggested they go on a date. She said yes. And in that moment, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He could not imagine a moment without Lorelai. Without her laughing at him or telling him her problems. He could fathom it. He, Luke Danes, wanted to spend his life with someone.

He smiled all the way home.

* * *

><p>When she proposed to him, he was floored. He had been thinking about it for a while, but he had never been sure about when or how he wanted to do it. Did she really want to marry him?<p>

Yes, she did, maybe even more than he wanted to marry her.

He remembers lying next to her and feeling like the world was finally perfect.

He fucked it up, in the end. He let her go.

He doesn't want to remember this part.

* * *

><p>His fist met Christopher's face. Again, and again. He doesn't care if they are seen. He wants to kill him. Christopher seems even more determined.<p>

He walks away, smirking. Chris won. He has Lorelai. And yet, he's still coming to pummel the former love.

That was the first day he dared to hope again.

* * *

><p>It was confusing, the time after Christopher left her. He didn't feel comfortable. Could they go back? Did he want to go back?<p>

He figured out two things: he still loved her and he wanted her in his life, even if it meant he had to serve her coffee and fix her porch step.

He didn't know if she loved him.

He remembers the song so perfectly, the way her (drunk) eyes met his, the way some deep emotion broke out on her face. Drunk words are sober thoughts, he recalled, and he hoped. But he knew, he had to be quiet and patient. He had to wait.

He waited. And thank God, he did not wait long this time.

* * *

><p>He remembers the way she looked after Rory left, for real this time. She was really alone in her house. She had to look at Rory's car parked in the driveway every day. He remembers the way she cuddled next to him on the couch and the way she tried to hide her empty-nest syndrome from him. He remembers the way she was so cautious with him in the beginning, again, and how she looked at him like she wasn't quite sure he was real.<p>

For him, he remembers everything about how to be with her. And for a while, it seems like she forgets how to be with him.

He remembers the night she cries for hours, about Rory, about Chris, about losing him. He let her cry, stroked her hair, distracted Paul Anka, got her coffee. He coached her through the tears. He said he forgave her again, and he honestly meant. He remembers the way she looked at him, blinking away the cloud of worry and doubt.

He remembers laying with her on their (their!) bed, until she quieted.

She squeezed his hand.

* * *

><p>This is the very last time that he really will think of it as her house. April has her own space there, all of his stuff is there, his apartment is, for the first time, truly empty. Once he opens the door, it becomes their house.<p>

He asked her to marry him on June 3, 2009. He wanted to make the day positive again, make it important again. He remembers the look on her face when she saw the ring – he had kept it the whole time. He remembers the clumsy way that he told her she could get a new one, that just wanted to use this one because –

She cut him off. "Yes," she said. "Yes." She wanted to keep with this ring, she told him they could do it this time, that they were ready this time.

He opens her car door. "Such a gentleman," she says quietly, so serious. He smiles at her.

"This way, Mrs. Danes," he says, sweeping his arm. It looks and feel unnatural. She giggles and takes his hand.

He lets her get halfway across the yard before scooping her up. "Put me down," she commands.

"Can't. Tradition," he grunts, adjusting her in his arms.

"Lucas!" she protests, but she's laughing too hard to really put up a fight.

The train of her dress almost gets in the way, for just split second, but he manages to get the door open.

He crosses the threshold and lets her down. "You...you!" she says, pretending to be mad for a second before pulling him in for a kiss.

He shuts his eyes. He remembers the look she had on her face when she was walking down the aisle. He opens them.

In her house, in their house, she wears the same look. "What?" she says, adjusting the top of her dress.

He smiles. "Nothing."

He remembers the first time he came to her house. That first shy smile is echoed on her face. Light as a feather, he pushes one of her curls back.

He etches this moment in his mind forever. He'll always remember this too.


End file.
